


My perfect-psycho boyfriend

by Egle_js



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Comic, Coming Out, Draco Malfoy Being Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Being an Asshole, Draco Malfoy Being an Idiot, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Fluff, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Harry Being Harry, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Top Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Egle_js/pseuds/Egle_js
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are very happy together.At Hogwarts, the attraction between the two of them was evident to everyone, except those directly concerned. They have always challenged and teased each other and their closest friends suspected that there was much more to it than a simple rivalry. At the end of summer, they met at a Ministry party and have been inseparable ever since. They love each other and are very, very happy.This is what all England knows.Except for Harry Potter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 236





	1. Chapter 1

After years and years of catastrophes, Harry Potter was able to recognize one when he saw it.

And Hermione's expression was a lethal mix of restlessness, worry and pain. For a second, he suspected Crookshanks had died in the night, but then his eyes were drawn to the copy of the Prophet's Gazette that the young witch held tight in her chest.

"Harry."

The trembling voice, the teeth nervously sinking into the lower lip.

Harry exhaled deeply reaching out for her to get the newspaper delivered.

"You won't like it," she warned him, without being convinced to give him the offending copy.

Harry snapped his tongue, nodding in encouragement.

He had survived a war. Certainly, he could face any new lie that Rita Skeeter had invented on him.

Hermione gave him a _why I must be the one who told you this_ glance before passing him the Gazzetta.

On the front page there was a photo of his, it was taken at the commemoration for the war dead. His head was bowed down, Hermione's arm around his shoulders. He looked tired, drained. It wasn't one of his best photoshoots.

Harry's eyebrows automatically snapped up when his gaze was magnetized by the title that headed above the photo:

_Harry Potter finds happiness in Draco Malfoy's arms._

"What the fuck?" he came out in a strangled lament, opening the page of the newspaper completely with an abrupt gesture.

 _The hero of the magical world finally returns to smile thanks to his relationship with the heir of the Malfoy family_ he read aloud _._

 _"Draco and Harry are very happy together," says an anonymous source very close to the couple. "At Hogwarts the attraction between the two of them was evident to everyone, except for those directly concerned. They have always challenged and teased each other and their closest friends suspected that there was much more to it than a simple rivalry. At the end of the summer, they met at a Ministry party and have been inseparable ever since. They love each other so much. I don't think it will be long before they decide to move in together,_ ” Harry continued.

He looked at Hermione, who had sat on the arm of the armchair. Her fingers continued to haunt the edge of the sweater.

“Don’t mind it. Skeeter would write anything just to sell a couple more copies, "said the girl trying to give him courage.

Harry could distinctly hear a hysterical giggle rise up his throat. He swallowed empty, trying to send it down, clinically observing a photo of Draco printed in the right corner of the page. He was wearing the Quidditch uniform and was smiling. The caption read: _the boy who gave Harry Potter a smile again._ He had the appearance of a kind of cherub, with sunlit hair, aristocratic features ...

Why did he seem like a rag instead? Because they had published exactly that photo, where he had hollow cheeks, a unshaved beard ... he felt his brooding cheek, pondering for a few moments that perhaps he should have gone out more, taken more sun ... maybe renovated his wardrobe.

"Harry," Hermione peeped carefully.

Harry grunted.

He crumpled the newspaper and flung it into the fireplace. That story would last a couple of days and then everyone would forget it. There was no need to worry.

Harry was sure of it.

"I'm going to make some tea," he announced, heading to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, n.12.

"Don't you want to deny it?" Hermione asked, following him. Her voice was a little shrill.

Harry shrugged, grabbing the kettle, and filling it with water. Kreacher must have gone out shopping.

"Why should I?". He shook his head in denial. "Anything I said would be misrepresented," he added, placing the kettle on the fire.

Hermione continued to send waves of apprehension. "Yes but…"

"Forget it. The newspapers can say what they want ... I'm not interested in their lies."

*

Harry realized that the article could have detrimental effects on his life when Mrs. Weasley felt compelled to give him _the speech_.

Two steaming cups of tea, the kitchen saturated with the scent of apple pie, Ron dozing on the sofa after a royal dinner. Mr. Weasley immersed himself in reading a manual of Muggle electrical systems. Ginny and Hermione talking softly by the fire.

"There is nothing wrong, dear. We love you anyway" Molly said, covering his hand with hers.

Harry looked at the woman's hand in horror before looking up again. This was far worse than when she believed Hermione was his fiancée.

"I'm not gay" came out much more acute than he would have liked. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in a conscious expression, nodding a few times. She didn't believe him. It was clear that she wasn't believing him.

Harry rapidly withdrew his hand, waving on the chair. He looked towards the girls, but nobody seemed to look after him.

It was a bloody conspiracy. He could almost hear Fred mess with laughter in the grave.

He moistened his lips, turning back to Ron's mom. He just had to be calm and assertive. It's reasonable.

He would explain that it was a misunderstanding, that the newspapers could not be trusted ... and he would go back to being Harry Potter, the heterosexual.

"I know there would be nothing wrong, but I'm not gay."

Seen? Calm and assertive. With dogs it worked. Even with three-headed dogs.

"Really."

Sign of assent. Smile. Sip of tea.

"If I were, I would tell her, but I'm not"

"Of course, dear"

It wasn't working.

Assertiveness was a big bullshit.

"I'm not gay!" he exclaimed anchoring himself at the table with his fingers covered in an impalpable veil of sweat. Why had his voice taken on that hysterical note now?

Sign of assent. Smile. Sip of tea.

Molly was the portrait of maternal love and compression. "I'll be here when you want to talk about it" 

*

He opened the door of Hermione's room, forcing himself not to crash into the wall. The girl was wearing a very questionable pink pajamas with teddy bears and was reading a book. Crookshanks stretched on the blankets before going back to sleep.

"Why does Mrs. Weasley think I'm gay?" he said. His heart beat like he was climbing Mount Everest.

Hermione flattened herself against the pillows, her eyes full of panic, the wheels of her highly intelligent brain spinning at full speed.

Three seconds had passed. And Hermione still hadn't answered. Why hadn't Hermione answered yet? "Why does Mrs. Weasley think I'm gay?" Harry yelled accusingly, taking a couple of steps into the room. Hermione jumped out of bed.

"I do not know! Why do you ask me? " she replied, rapidly leaving the room. Her hair was all frizzy, as if she had put a finger in the socket.

Harry chased her, battling the urge to grab her by the arm.

"Why do you think I'm gay?"

"I do not know!" Hermione shouted. "Your jeans ..."

Harry looked down at his jeans. They were very normal jeans. What was wrong with them? They were old and worn ... Do gays wear jeans like yours?

Were there straight jeans and gay jeans? Why had no one ever explained it to him?

"And you broke up with Ginny"

Harry pointed a finger at her, feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment. "Ginny and I had sex," he said slowly.

"Yes, I know. But…” the young witch stammered.

“Great sex! I am the…"

"I don't want to know"

"...The king of straight sex."

"I don't want to know," Hermione shouted, covering her ears with her hands.

"We spent the whole night ..."

"LA LA LA LA LA" Hermione screamed, heading head down to her room, still keeping her palms pressed to her ears.

"Doing it ... I was tireless ..."

"Master Potter"

"I would have gone on for hours and hours and hours ..."

"Master Potter!" Kreacher thundered aloud to be heard over the hysterical voice of the young witch who kept repeating LA LA LA and _I don't hear you_ at regular intervals.

Harry turned to the house elf, while Hermione finally calmed down.

"A guest is waiting for you downstairs," Kreacher said politely before disappearing with a pop. Harry checked the time, feeling a sense of uneasiness pattering down his spine. Who the hell could be?

After ten o'clock in the evening only bad news came. It was an inescapable astrophysical law.

"Let's continue the discussion later," he hissed in the direction of Hermione, before deciding to go and welcome the disaster.

He was halfway up the ladder, when a spell shot a few inches from his head, then crumbled a portion of the wall behind him.

"What the fuck ..." he growled, instinctively throwing himself to the ground, while another spell was trying to get an eye out.

" _Pietrificus totalus_ " said Hermione from the top of the stairs, making the guy harmless. Harry gave her a brief nod of thanks, getting back on his feet.

He looked at the guy for long moments, trying to trace his name in the dark corners of memory. Hogwarts. He was sure of that. Maybe a couple of years younger than he is. Hufflepuff .... No, Ravenclaw. He was almost sure it was from Ravenclaw and that his name began with M.

He requisitioned the stranger’s wand and then tied him like salami.

"Why did you attack me?" he asked, giving him back the use of the word.

The Ravenclaw's face twisted into an angry expression and his nostrils dilated. Harry puckered a corner of his mouth, trying hard not to laugh. Okay, the guy whose name started with M ... or maybe S ... was really pissed.

"Draco Malfoy is my boyfriend"

Harry blinked a few times, staring at him as if he were a strange and potentially rare animal.

“You have to stay away from him. Or I'll destroy you! " the guy shouted so loudly that he risked bursting his coronaries. "I destroy you, Potter!"

"Kreacher" called Harry, slipping his wand into the back pocket of his jeans. "Take him outside," he ordered, no longer deigning the stranger a single glance.

Merlin, why was his life so crowded with psychopaths?

*

Harry pursed his lips, looking at the copies of the Prophet's Gazette neatly arranged in the newsstand. The main headline announced the launch of a new law to protect prisoners and the removal of dementors from Azkaban.

It was a good thing. Nobody deserved to be at the mercy of the Dementors day after day after...

Harry rumbled when he saw the title of Rita Skeeter's article: _More rumours about Harry Potter's love life._

Okay, maybe someone deserved to be given to dementors.

He decided to go on, pretending to have a love life.

After the story-non-story with Ginny there had been no one else. It's not that things between him and Ginny didn't go well ... but they didn't go badly either. If he had to describe their relationship, he would have said it was a flat encephalogram: there were no peaks of happiness and there were no peaks of despair.

Could he adapt to such a story in his heart?

No, honestly not.

He stopped in front of a shop window, looking at the new Nimbus model. Aerodynamics, the tail made with the best saggina wood ...

His thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of giggles from somewhere behind him. He shifted his gaze a bit, identifying a small group of girls a few meters away. He had to admit that one was particularly pretty.

They certainly wanted his autograph. One with two dark ponytails pushed the cute one in his direction, making her emit an excited squeak.

"Come on, ask him!" she encouraged her.

Harry stifled a smile, turning to face the girl. But were they really so stupid not to understand that he had heard and understood everything?

"Hi," said the pretty one. Her face was sprayed with freckles. He handed him a copy of the Prophet's Gazette, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Can I have your autograph?"

Now, he didn't like sign autographs for the simple reason that he found it stupid. He was a human being like everyone else! And the autograph was one thing ... well, stupid!

"Sure," he replied, taking the feather she was holding out to him.

On the other hand ... when a nice girl asks you something you can't refuse, can you?

"To whom do I dedicate it?" he said, recording the delightful way in which the blond curls brushed her cheek.

"To Mary," replied the girl, while her friends melted into another chorus of giggles.

Harry bit his lower lip, writing a dedication on the page.

"But it's true?" the girl stammered in a low voice, getting a little closer. It smelled of vanilla.

Harry frowned, looking back at her.

"what?" he replied without understanding.

Who had defeated Voldemort? Well ... yes.

That he had killed a Basilisk when he was twelve? Well, yes ... that was true too.

He watched the girl's cheeks turn incredibly red, as if she were on fire.

"That it is _obscenely big_ ," she whispered.

Harry felt his brain short circuit in an attempt to decipher the girl's words. Didn't she just say it?

And she wasn't referring to ... anything! She wasn't referring to anything, right?

Harry looked down again at the page, where there was a picture of him. A photo of him next to a photo of Draco Malfoy. 

_More rumors about Harry Potter's love life._

_The hero of the magical world, jumped into the limelight of the gossip for his love story with the heir of one of the most prominent families of high society, turned out to be a true heartbreaker._

_"Draco must fight to defend his relationship, Harry is always surrounded by a crowd of admirers who can't wait to get into his bed" reveals a source very close to the couple. “Draco is so in love and infinitely jealous. He wouldn't share Harry with anyone else. And then…"_

Harry felt his breath get stuck in his contracted lungs. A long whistle passed through his temples like a stab.

_“According to Draco, Harry is incredibly good at bed. They spend whole weekends without ever getting out of bed. And Potter’s penis - always according to Malfoy - is obscenely big. "_

"WHAT?" Harry shrieked sharply, carving those two words in his mind.

_Obscenely big._

Malfoy said his penis was _obscenely big!_

Harry had to convince himself that he wasn't having a heart attack right there, as he felt a boulder sink into his chest. He stared at the page for a few seconds, completely unable to order his body to react.

The noise of the feather that was broken in half seemed to awaken him suddenly.

"Can I keep this?" he said to the girl.

He had to speak to Mafoy. Immediately. They would have taken the situation in hand, they would have denied ...

The image of Mrs. Weasley sitting in the kitchen reading the article flashed through his mind for a moment. Immediately followed by the image of all the Gryffindor girls who read the same newspaper.

He pulled his wand out of his pocket and dematerialized, reappearing shortly after in front of Malfoy Manor.

A denial. That would calm the waters. It was enough to remain calm and assertive and everything would be ...

"Malfoy!" he thundered, storming the door with his fists. His breathing came out in a hoarse gasp between chapped lips. He was about to blow up the door when the heavy wooden panel rotated on its hinges with a squeak, revealing the figure of the former Slytherin.

Draco arched an eyebrow in the most pathetic of his father's aristocracy imitations, but Harry didn't give him time to utter a single syllable before grabbing him by the arm and pushing him into the house.

"Have you seen the newspaper this morning?" he barked, walking in large steps towards the table positioned in the corner of the entrance. Here it is, another copy.

By now the whole of London seemed to be covered with it. Harry unfolded the newspaper, sensing a river of lava running down his veins. He would kill to Rita Skeeter, the publisher, the owner of the newspaper ...

"They think the two of us are together," Harry continued, looking for the evil words with his eyes. Obscenely big. All of London ... no, no, not all of London ... all of England thought he had _it_ obscenely big.

He stopped for a moment. Obscenely big. Well it didn't sound that bad, did it? That situation could basically have positive implications. Healthy advertising, for example.

He shook his head as if annoyed by a fly, looking up at the former Slytherin.

"We must deny the news!"

Immediately. First of all. They had to go to the Prophet's Gazette and ...

"Deny ... mh mh," Malfoy replied, but Harry didn't even hear him.

"Indeed ... maybe it would be better to rely on a specialist, someone who can handle this kind of thing"

"Someone ... yes. It seems like a great idea. I have the right person. In an afternoon he will fix everything” Draco replied, accompanying his words with the affirmative nods.

Harry frowned, feeling a tingling sensation on the back of his neck.

"I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding ... and that we can easily remedy this unpleasant situation ..."

Harry narrowed his gaze, watching Draco's mouth move but without really being able to grasp what he was saying.

"You asshole" he snapped suddenly.

Malfoy shut up instantly.

"You did it," he hissed, pointing a finger at him. The cheeks of the former Slytherin quickly lost that little colour they kept, while Harry advanced threateningly towards him. "It was you! You're the anonymous source very close to the couple "he exploded, waving the newspaper as if he wanted to use it to skewer him.

"Me? But come on ... why should I ... "

"I do not know!" Harry interrupted him. "But I'm sure it was you who spread this rumor ... and the photos ..."

Harry looked again at the photos published that morning. Why did Malfoy always look like an underwear model, while he always looked like a rag passed under a steamroller?

"I'll kill you" he growled, trying to catch him, but Draco was faster putting a table between them.

"Let me explain" said Malfoy, raising his hands with palms facing him.

Harry let out a low growl, passing across the table to try and grab him and hurt him as much as possible, but Malfoy was incredibly ingenious when it came to slipping away from someone's clutches.

"You ... idiot ... England thinks I'm gay!" Harry cried.

Draco tilted his head slightly to the side, studying him curiously.

"Why? Aren't you? "

"No!" Harry shrieked with all his breath.

"Oh," said the former Slytherin. "I always believed so"

"Why on earth would I be gay?"

"I don't know ... your jeans ..."

Okay, he would burn those damned jeans!

He brought his fingers to his temples, which were battered by a fierce headache. He inhaled deeply, trying to quell the murderous instincts ... at least for the moment.

"Malfoy" he articulated with difficulty "Why did you do it?"

Of all the nasty things he had done to him over the years ... and there had been several ... that was perhaps the worst. Harry thought for a few moments. No, okay, maybe the time he got him and George out of the Quidditch team was worse. But in any case, even making all England believe that he was gay was at least on the podium of bullshit.

Draco shrugged, nervously nibbling on his lower lip. "You're the first person that came to mind," he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Harry grimaced. "What are you babbling about?”

Draco exhaled deeply, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue. He glanced in the direction of the door, before gesturing for Harry to precede him in the living room. There was a fireplace and a good scent of clean and lavender impregnated the whole room.

Malfoy peered again into the corridor before closing the door. Harry decided he still had thirty seconds to save his life.

After that he would hit. And he would have done it to kill.

“Servitude is truly gossip. You can't ... "

"Malfoy," Harry exhaled in a low rumble.

"Okay ... okay ... I have a boyfriend"

Harry looked at him as if he were seeing him for the first time in his life. "You are gay?"

"Yes," Malfoy replied with an enviable calm. "Where the fuck were you at school? All Hogwarts knew it.”

Where was he? Well, probably to save the magical world since he hadn't done anything else in the last eight years of his life!

He had never had time for gossip, he had other things to think about.

One moment! Why had Ron and Hermione never told him?

Did Ron know? He certainly didn't know, otherwise he would have started calling Malfoy _the queen of queers_ or something like that.

"Well, I _had_ a boyfriend," continued the former Slytherin, completely unaware of Potter's reasoning. "Except that things have become a little ..." he continued, waving his hand as if to help himself find the right word.

"Your jeans are normal" Harry reflected darkly "what are my jeans different than yours?"

"Nothing"

"Exactly. So why are you all mad at my ... "

"Potter," Malfoy exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Stay focused. F-o-c-u-s!"

Harry pursed his lips curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. Okay, he would listen to what he had to say. He would have pulverized him later.

"I was saying ... I had a boyfriend, but things started to go wrong. I can't get rid of him anymore, he lurks outside my house, he sends me cards and flowers and ... he realized the fantastic person I am and he doesn't want to let me go for any reason in the world "

Harry let out a snort of laughter from his nose. That guy had to be completely unsane. It had to be ...

"He came to my house!" he suddenly realized. It had to be the guy who was part of Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff and whose name was supposed to start with M or S. Or maybe it was C.

Malfoy nodded. "I know. He told me. He said he threatened you and you were shaking with fear "

"But it's not true!" Harry snapped.

Malfoy shrugged as if he didn't care. “Anyway, I needed a fake boyfriend to get rid of him and you're the first person that came to mind. I told him that we are together, that we are very happy and that you will break his bones if he only tries to get closer to me "

Harry stared at him for a matter of seconds, his brain completely unable to connect fully.

"Why did you do such a thing? Couldn't you just dump him? "

"I tried! But Roger ... "

Ah, his name was Roger.

"... is crazy. I needed a boyfriend who could scare him. "

"And since Voldemort is dead, I'm the only one left," Harry muttered, folding his arms again.

"Listen ..." Draco murmured in a suspiciously reasonable tone "Play the part of my fantastic, fake boyfriend for a few more days … just the time needed to make him understand that we are happy together and that he must leave me alone"

"No!" Harry yelled, feeling anger setting his cheeks on fire. "You are ruining my life!"

Draco looked at him genuinely perplexed. "Why? Tell me what negative feedback you had! "

"Everyone thinks I'm gay!"

“So, you have prejudices against gays. They disgust you, "pointed out the former Slytherin.

"No, they don't disgust me, and I have nothing against gays ..."

"So, I'm the one who disgust you"

Harry nodded, but shortly thereafter had to step aside to avoid the copy of the Prophet's being thrown at his head.

"Why should I say something that's not true?" exploded, while Malfoy was looking for something else to throw at him.

there is nothing wrong with being gay"

“No, there would be nothing wrong, but I am not gay! "

“You can still be my boyfriend. You see? The press loves us” Malfoy said, showing him the cover of a weekly. The title was The Dream Couple. "It could help you rehabilitate your reputation after ... you know ..."

"What?"

"Well, you killed Voldemort. You are not extremely popular at the moment. People have to forget it."

Okay, what new parallel universe had he gone into?

He took a deep breath, making large steps towards the door. He had to get out of there. Immediately.

"I go to Rita Skeeter and I force her to write that it was bullshit,"

"You can't," Malfoy replied fiercely, raising his chin a little. Harry arched an eyebrow, staring at him without arguing. Malfoy was as mentally ill as his ex-boyfriend.

“I will say that it is all true. I have proof "

Harry felt the features of his face twist into an outraged smirk.

"What the fuck ..."

Malfoy twirled his wand and soon after a pair of blue boxers appeared in his hand. A snitch was drawn on one of the legs. Harry realized with horror that Malfoy was flipping the rubber band over to show the inner label, which carried the initials. H. P.

Harry would have prevented Mrs. Weasley from continuing to pin his initials on her underwear.

"Those where ..." he articulated, advancing threateningly one step. Malfoy hastened to make them disappear and then moved to a safe distance.

"I have my sources," he replied, appearing behind the table again. “Listen, one week. I get rid of Roger and ... "

"No!"

“You won't even have to spend time with me. It is enough for you to say nothing ... "

"You are crazy if you believe that I won't say anything!"

“And to keep walking around with that crashed face. The press loves my image of a saving angel "

Harry rubbed his face with one hand, muttering a dirty word. Why him?

He was a good person. Courageous. Who always tried to do the right thing. Why did God, Merlin or destiny ... decide to put Draco Malfoy on his road?

"A week," Harry finally snorted. He looked up, intercepting the expression of pure joy painted on the face of the former Slytherin. “A week and then we break up. In fact ... I leave you because you cheat on me! "

Malfoy nodded vigorously. "As you wish, Harry," he said smoothly.

Harry swallowed a blasphemy, opening the door and walking quickly through the lobby. "Aren't you going to give me a kiss?" chirped Draco, pawing behind him.

Harry turned so fast that Malfoy nearly ran into him. "And no more comments about my dick" he hissed angrily, feeling his cheeks roast with shame.

Malfoy nodded his head, biting his lower lip. "Promised," he whispered, before Harry went down the steps and dematerialized, unable to convince himself that he was not crazy like Malfoy. 


	2. CHAPTER 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malfoy's diabolical plan continues, Harry is increasingly convinced that his jeans have nothing wrong and strange thoughts start to pop into his mind ... strange thoughts regarding the blond guy ...

"I think it's a bad idea," said Hermione, pouring herself a large ration of oat flakes.

"Yes, you already said that," Harry replied, eyeing a sports newspaper article. The Cannons had lost. Again. Ron must have been in a bad mood.

"Why did you say yes?" asked the young witch, dipping the spoon into the bowl and starting to martyr the cereals. The table was cluttered with piles of books, which left a few free zones where they could place plates and glasses.

There were books piled up in the living room. And in the bedroom. Even in the bathroom. Nonetheless, Hermione kept saying that she had been shamefully left behind in the homework during the year they had spent fighting Voldemort and that she absolutely had to pass exams, otherwise her whole life would have been a complete failure. Or something like that.

Harry shrugged. “I didn't say yes. I said I would be quiet for a week. Then we will say that I broke up with him. "

"What if Malfoy doesn't want to break up with you?"

Harry arched an eyebrow, glancing at her.

“What do you mean Malfoy doesn't want to break up with me? You cannot be together with a person against his will "

Skeptical glance from Hermione accompanied by a slight move of the eyebrow. Bad sign.

Hermione let out a long snort, bringing the spoon to her lips.

"I only know that Malfoy is synonymous with trouble"

No, she knew a lot more than that, but she didn't want to tell him. Hermione would never have used the expression _I only know_ ... She didn't know just something. She knew everything. She had omniscience infused in that curly little head of hers.

Harry looked sadly at his breakfast without wanting to eat it anymore, the back of his neck tingling in an alarming way.

“I can always go back to Malfoy Manor and tell him I've changed my mind,” he said, getting only a slight nod from Hermione in reply.

"But maybe I'm the one who worries too much" finally sighed the young witch, opening a history book of magical law "After all, what can happen in a week?"

And it was then that Potter began to be seriously afraid. 

*

He deformed his mouth in a yawn, desperately trying to stay awake.

The lines drawn on the page kept messing up and merging, making it difficult for him to continue reading.

McGonagall had prepared a study program for him and Ron. The whole program was designed specifically to pass the exam to enter the training academy for Aurors.

He grabbed a quill, straightening in his chair trying not to give in to boredom when an insistent tapping caught his attention.

He got up and opened the window panes, letting in a chilled owl. 

_“Dear Mr. Potter, we are honored that you have chosen our shop._

_To thank you for what you have done for us all, we are happy to offer you our services for free._

_Garden's roses is always at your disposal. Day and night._

_Best regards_

_Octopus Maham "_

Harry frowned, examining the back of the parchment on which was printed a rose adorned with an inscription that read the name and address of a shop.

He looked up when a second owl joined the first. He quickly untied the note from the animal's paw, sensing a bad omen making his stomach twist.

_"_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Chocolate paradise is extremely ... "_

"Malfoy" hissed threateningly, as a barn owl and a third owl joined the first two.

"Kreacher" he called aloud, going down the stairs and reaching the kitchen, where a good aroma of stew came from.

"Yes, Master Potter?" the elf replied, wiping his wrinkled hands in his apron tied at the waist. Harry quickly put on his jacket, running a hand through his messed-up hair.

“Take all the notes,” he said, handing the ones in his hand to Kreacher, “go around the shops and settle all the bills. The money is in the trunk in my room, "he ordered. "And don't ..." stopped him before the creature had time to fade "Don't punish yourself if you can't convince them to accept the money" he recommended and then dematerialized.

Malfoy Manor was teeming with bellboys entering and exiting a back door. Harry raised the collar of his jacket a little and headed for the main entrance. He didn't even have time to knock that Draco appeared in the doorway. A happy smile printed on the face, unbearably perfect hair.

"Harry," he chirped, spurting joy and pheromones.

"I hope you liked my gifts," Harry replied, fighting the urge to grab him and start shaking him hard.

He recorded the glimpse that Malfoy took at something behind him and then the former Slytherin's arms wrapped around his neck. His mouth pressed against his ear.

Harry's eyes widened; his whole body was petrified. "You promised, remember?" Draco said in a low voice, before he had time to react.

No! He hadn't promised this! He had promised to keep quiet!

He started to shake it off, but Malfoy anticipated it by stepping back and returning to the house. He was smiling so much that he seemed to have just come out of a toothpaste ad.

“They are beautiful, Harry. Thanks”, he added as if he was purring. He hinted at the attempt to take him by the hand but stopped by sensing that it would be too much.

"Too bad I didn't send you anything," Harry snapped, as Malfoy closed the door and preceded him into the living room.

"You should have. You are my boyfriend "

Harry distinctly felt a shiver of fear mixed with disgust trotting down his spine. "No, I'm not," he replied, sinking his head between his shoulders and sinking his hands into his pockets.

Draco Malfoy's boyfriend. Hearing it aloud was much worse than reading it on the pages of the newspaper.

He grimaced, looking at a majestic bouquet of gerberas and tulips, placed in a vase.

"You also wrote the note," Harry said.

_"To the only one who knows how to bring a smile back to my face._

_Thanks for everything you do "_

Harry's stomach was now in free fall.

He would not have imagined the florist's face as he secretly read it.

He wouldn't have imagined the same florist reporting every word to Rita Skeeter.

And he would never have imagined Mrs. Weasley's face for any reason as she read it in the newspaper the following day.

_"I love you._

_Harry,”_ he murmured, nearly choking on I love you.

"Malfoy!" he thundered. His cheeks burned incredibly.

Draco looked at him, opening his lips in an extremely offended expression.

“Look, in this story you earn too! I'm making you become a perfect boyfriend! "

"You're doing it all by yourself!" Harry replied.

His coronary arteries would hold up, wouldn't they? He wouldn't have had a heart attack or something because of anger, right?

Draco wrinkled his nose and raised his chin slightly in defiance. "If you were a boyfriend like..."

"But I'm not your boyfriend!" Harry yelled back, spreading his arms.

"Shout it a little louder, they haven't heard you in Alaska!" replied the former Slytherin in the same tone.

Harry frowned, looking at a purple spot on Draco's jaw. A bruise. It was surely a bruise, which stood out in a dangerously sad way on his diaphanous skin. He approached him, but Malfoy instinctively took a step back.

"What have you done?" he asked "It seems ..."

"It's nothing," Malfoy said quickly, lowering his head and heading for the lit fireplace.

" _It's not nothing_ ," Harry retorted. "It's a…"

“I saw Roger last night. I went out to get some air ... I don't know how he managed to get into the garden "whispered Draco in a barely audible voice. His shoulders trembled. And Harry hated the surge of protection he felt immensely.

"He wanted to convince me to come back with him," added the ex Slytherin without looking at him.

Harry clenched his fists tightly at his sides, mentally giving himself a fool. Malfoy knew how to look after himself. And it wasn't his job to protect him.

"Okay, let's go," he surrendered, turning and reaching the door.

He had gone mad. Surely Hermione would have said he was crazy. Ron, on the other hand ... He closed his eyes, ignoring the urge to cry. He didn't want to know what Ron would say or think.

Draco quickly put on his elegant coat, following him on the entrance path. "Let's go ... where?" he asked.

Harry exhaled deeply, wrapping his shoulders with one arm. He wanted to die.

Seriously. He wanted to die.

"A week," he whispered, avoiding looking at him. He tensed when Malfoy relaxed slightly against him. His hair that touched his cheek in a soft caress.

"Thanks, Harry" 

* 

He took off his jeans, then placed them on the back of the chair. The room was warm and welcoming, in contrast to the cold that raged in the streets. The weather forecast had announced snow for the following days.

Harry threw himself down on the bed dead weight, his eyes glued to the ceiling.

In the end that afternoon hadn't gone badly. Malfoy had been quiet and good by his side, pausing from time to time to look at a window.

Harry closed his eyes, reaching over the cushions. It was almost pleasant ... going around aimlessly, the sensation of a body next to his, the consistency of the other's shoulders under the arm ...

He was about to turn off the light when a barn owl landed on his windowsill.

Harry got up and opened the windows, feeling the chill evening air hitting his bare chest.

He untied the message from the raptor's paw, handing him a cookie.

_“I enjoyed your company._

_Thanks for what you do for me._

_Draco "_

Harry felt his stomach twitch slightly. Malfoy was also thinking about him. To that afternoon.

No! Malfoy wasn't thinking about him! He wasn't thinking of Malfoy! He was just making a brief recapitulation of his day. He took a feather to answer it, but decided it was not necessary.

After all, he wasn't really his boyfriend.

*

The dinner had taken place in the silence full of embarrassment, the conversation attempts were wrecked after a few painful jokes, which had pushed all those present to lower their heads on their plates and to consume the rest of the meatloaf without saying anything.

Harry put down his fork loudly, snorting. It was useless to ignore the huge pink elephant that roamed the room.

“I'm not dating Draco Malfoy. I'm just doing him a favor, ”he declared, looking at Hermione.

Hermione was his ally. Hermione loved him.

Hermione would have said something highly intelligent and sensible.

Harry's eyes widened, giving her a heartfelt prayer with his eyes, but the girl stuck a large piece of bread in her mouth, showing herself very intent on chewing.

"Of course not," Mrs. Weasley chirped, relief surfaced from the tone of her voice. "Nobody ever believed a word in the Journal," she added, pouring a generous ration of roasted potatoes onto George's plate, and forcing him to eat.

"Although ..." Mrs. Weasley went on, going around the table to fill Ron's plate too.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "There would be nothing wrong if you were ..."

Gay.

"But I'm not!" Harry replied, his voice slightly shrill with hysteria.

"No, of course not!" Mrs. Weasley said again, ladle in hand, the smile of understanding spread over her lips.

Harry hated that smile. It was the mom smile.

"But there would be nothing wrong with that if you ..." George said showing an evil expression.

"But I'm not!" Harry growled.

"He's not," Ron muttered. His face was incredible red.

Harry thanked him with a nod, glancing in Hermione's direction. Where was the speech that would have convinced everyone? Why weren't she and her very high IQ brain intervening?

Why did Hermione prefer to remove the sesame seeds from the bread rather than take his defense?

"In my opinion you are a beautiful couple"

Harry's jaw dropped into space as he turned to stare at Ginny.

The girl shrugged, pouring herself some pumpkin juice. “Yeah…” she confirmed “You're cute together,” she added as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Now, Harry didn't expect his ex-girlfriend to take up his defense, declaring before her whole family that he was an absolutely heterosexual stud stud ... but ...

"I'm not gay!" he yelled, clenching his fork tightly in his fist.

Everyone was staring at him except Ron.

And Hermione. Harry turned to her. "I'm not gay," he said a second time, reaching out a little towards her.

The young witch blushed violently, chirping a little _Harry_ ...

"Oh no," Harry sobbed in horror.

 _No, no, no, no…_ Hermione couldn't think he was gay! Because if she thought it, it meant that there was a high possibility that it was true! And he didn't want it to be true!

He needed it not true!

"Ginny! We two were together! " he snapped, gesturing with one hand.

Ginny just shrugged again, making a small grimace. "I'm sorry, Harry," she murmured.

He got up from the table, making his chair rustle on the floor. He felt suffocated in there. He reached the garden, ignoring the voice of Hermione who was calling him.

The cold evening air descended into his lungs, wiping the sweat from his face. He climbed over the fence that surrounded the garden and began to walk the gravel path that climbed up the hill. The breath condensed in front of his mouth in small clear clouds.

"Harry," Hermione called out, running up to him. She wrapped herself more tightly in the sweater, walking beside him.

"I'm not gay," Harry repeated for the millionth time. “Well .. I would have noticed! I wouldn't have liked Cho; I wouldn't have dated Ginny! "

He stopped abruptly as if caught by a revelation and turned with fervour towards Hermione. "I wouldn't have flirted with Hannah Abbott"

Hermione just looked at him with the friend version of Mrs. Weasley's comprehensive expression.

"I wouldn't have flirted with Hannah Abbott!"

Hermione wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. Harry tensed in his embrace, feeling a knot form in his throat. He was not gay. Really.

And his jeans were in his closet by mistake. Maybe they were even from Dudley.

Maybe Dudley was the gay one.

He swallowed empty, abandoning himself with a barely audible sob against the girl.

"I'm not gay," he peeped in a small little voice. 

*

He ran a hand over his face, muttering something.

"Harry," a voice called softly.

There it is, his worst nightmare. It wasn't enough for Malfoy to ruin his waking life, now he had to sneak into his dreams too.

"Go away," he mumbled, moving his hand blindly to chase him away and go back to sleep peacefully.

"Wake up ..." whispered the fatal voice. A finger crossed the bridge of his nose in a gentle caress. He lifted one eyelid, laboriously bringing the face bent over him into focus.

He rolled over on the mattress, bundling himself up in the duvet.

"It's sunny ... it's a wonderful day ... go on, silly!"

Harry groaned, trying not to whine. "How did you get in?"

"Your elf told me to wake you up," Draco replied, sitting down next to him and crossing his ankles over each other. Harry dug deeper into the blankets.

"He's making us breakfast"

"What do you want?"

Harry froze as he felt Draco's fingers slide slowly through his hair. He whimpered as he attempted to become an integral part of the blankets, Malfoy's fingertips dropped to his sensitive nape.

"I want to give you the opportunity to invite me to tonight's Quidditch match. Wasps vs Cannons. Obviously, it will be a massacre for your team "

"How lucky I feel to have the honor of inviting you," he muttered, still half numb from sleep.

Harry frowned, Draco's fingers slid lower and caressed his upper back. Why did Malfoy know what his team was?

And for God's sake why was Malfoy touching him?

He turned in the duvet, looking thoughtfully at his profile. Would he be able to kiss Malfoy?

He was absolutely straight, despite what everyone else claimed… but what if Hermione was right?

"What?" Malfoy asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, continuing to stare at him with an intensity that could have incinerated him. Draco's fingers moved away from his hair, leaving a shadow of lack on him.

If only Malfoy had remained completely still ... If only he hadn't chosen that moment to look down at his lips and gulp nervously, Harry's mind wouldn't have frozen on the thought of kissing.

"How did you find out?" he whispered.

Draco reached out his hand again and touched Harry's neck with his fingertips, giving him a series of chills down his spine.

"What?"

"To be gay" he replied in a faint voice.

If he kissed him, would Malfoy throw a punch at him? Or would he blackmail him to continue the play indefinitely?

Draco's fingers traced a fiery trail from his neck to his chin, then back up to his lower lip. "Realizing that I liked a guy"

Harry licked his lips lightly, observing the former Slytherin's face. "Who?" he whispered.

Draco just smiled a wicked and sly smile at the same time. He leaned toward him, reducing the distance between them to inches.

Harry's vision was entirely occupied by Malfoy's face.

"A very stupid guy," he replied. "I'm waiting for him to notice me, but his stupidity is beyond the limits of human understanding"

Harry narrowed his gaze. There was like a note of mockery in Malfoy's words.

"So it can't be me," he remarked sourly, throwing the blankets aside and getting out of bed.

Draco settled himself better against the pillows, starting to laugh.

"Your ego is also beyond the bounds of human understanding," he retorted.

Harry froze with his jeans in hand and turned to face him. Even your ego… even his ego, as well as his stupidity? Or even his ego as well as the stupidity of Draco's elusive crush boy.

"Pick me up at six," said the former Slytherin, getting to his feet and adjusting the scarf around his neck.

"We can see each other right there," Harry muttered, tucking one leg into his pants.

“No, you will come and get me. The florist has already had instructions for delivering flowers to me. ” Malfoy rattled, reaching the door with quick and elegant movements.

“Stop giving yourself flowers with my money! I've never even given them to Ginny ... why should I give them to you? "

Draco turned to him. He seemed on the verge of saying something very mean but had to think again because he closed his lips with a snap.

"Fine," he hissed, before marching out of the room.

Harry let out a long sigh and tried to call him back, but Malfoy didn't even answer him. 

*

Harry had been mulling over most of the afternoon: is the invitation for the evening still valid or not? After all, he didn't mind going to a Quidditch game and Malfoy had surprisingly shown that he could stay good and quiet without poisoning his life too much with his insipid presence.

In the end he had put on a more or less decent sweater, more or less clean jeans, made his hair look at least tolerable, and showed up on time at Malfoy Manor.

Draco had greeted him with the warmest and most false of smiles, especially aimed at the lenses of photographers or the eyes of his ex-boyfriend, who could be crouched in the shadows.

"You forgot your scarf," Malfoy chirped, pulling off the one he was wearing. It was deep green, reminiscent of Hogwarts meadows in midsummer and ...

"It matches the color of your eyes" observed the former Slytherin, adjusting it around his neck.

Harry tried to push his hands away… "I don't want your scarf," he grumbled. It was drenched in Draco's perfume. It was far too intimate a thing. Something that would be good for two boyfriends… real boyfriends.

"You're going to catch a cold," Harry added, starting to take it off.

Draco gave him a pat on the cheek. "How sweet you are to worry about me," he said, before returning to the house to retrieve a second scarf.

Harry hunched his head between his shoulders, feeling a deep shame digging holes in the center of his chest.

After a few minutes, Draco closed the door with a thud and slipped an arm under his. "Here we go?" He proposed.

Harry saw anger stir in his gaze, barely concealed by his pimping ways.

"Yes," he replied, shrugging.

After the curious glances that had greeted them in the stands and the chorus of giggles and chatter behind them, the evening had miraculously gone on well.

He and Malfoy had suddenly found themselves ignited by the same rivalry that had distinguished them at Hogwarts, which resulted in incitements to their team and imaginative insults aimed at that rival.

"Ought…" Harry murmured as he watched the Wasps seeker crash violently to the ground. "That seems to hurt," he commented, glancing at Draco.

The former Slytherin pursed his lips in a grimace, wearing a grudge expression.

"He'll be fine," he replied, as the wizards entered the field with a stretcher.

"I'm going to get two butterbeers," Draco sighed, standing up.

"Forget it ... I'll go ..." Harry offered, but Draco pushed him back badly.

"No" he replied a little too quickly. He smiled faintly, touching Harry's jaw with his fingertips. “I offer. After what you are doing for me is the minimum "

Harry felt his stomach twist all over. Maybe because of Malfoy's touch. Perhaps because of his look so ... unusual ...

"Okay," he stammered, looking back at the Quidditch pitch.

He kept his eyes on the wizards until he was sure that the former Slytherin was far enough away not to notice his gaze following him.

He saw him go up the steps, step aside to let a man pass holding two children in the orange Cannons hats by the hand, and then disappear into the tunnels.

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair.

What the hell was wrong with it?

All that talk from Hermione and Mrs. Weasley… and Ginny!

His mind was all messed up.

He glanced in the direction of the stairs, looking for Malfoy.

He had been away for a while now; the game was resuming ...

“Excuse me,” he said, hitting the knee of the boy sitting two seats away as he passed.

He was a psychopath. Months and months of war had forever eroded his intellectual faculties and by now he saw dangers and plots everywhere.

He reached the beer stand, but no sign of Draco.

He looked around trying to spot Malfoy's blond hair but couldn't see it.

He was probably the usual alarmist. Probably Malfoy was playing a joke on him, he could have come home or maybe he had met someone he knew ...

Harry quickly started down the hall as a chorus of enthusiastic shouts erupted in the stands.

"Malfoy," he called aloud, his heart pounding hard in his ribcage. "Malfoy," he repeated, leaning with all his weight on the bar of one of the outer doors.

The wand materialized in his hand, even before his brain was able to decipher what was in front of him: the two glasses of butterbeer spilled on the floor, Draco pressed against the wall... Roger standing in front of him ...

" _Expelliarmus,"_ he shouted, sending the guy's wand flying off.

He started running as Malfoy slumped to the ground and Roger took the stairs to the broom lot and disappeared from his sight.

"Are you OK?" he asked, kneeling beside Draco. A trail of blood dripped from his nose and smeared his chin and scarf.

"Yes," whispered the former Slytherin, leaning on his shoulder to get back on his feet. His face was incredibly pale. "I'm fine, don't worry," he whispered, but his legs gave him away and Harry was forced to hold him fully.

"I'll take you home," he murmured, wrapping his arm around his waist. Draco's grip on his shoulder was surprisingly strong, but his whole body was shaking.

"Thank you," he whispered in a low voice, abandoning himself against him. "I'm serious, Harry... thank you ..."

Harry looked away, something stirred in his chest.

"Don't think about it," he cut the conversation quickly before dematerializing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading the fanfic up to here. I hope you have had a good vacation and see you in the next chapter :-)


	3. CHAPTER 3

He gripped his wand in his fingers, lazily turning a spell in the direction of one of the gnomes that haunted the Weasleys' garden. He grimaced when he scoffed at him and dived into a hare's den, disappearing from his sight.

"Be more careful!" Ginny scolded him, hands on her hips and an annoyed expression on her face that made her look dangerously like Molly.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, hunching his head a little between his shoulders.

The girl let out a long sigh, going to sit on the fence next to him.

"Come on, tell me everything." she said, throwing her hair back.

Harry frowned a bit, he wasn't sure he wanted to have any kind of conversation with her.

"What happened last night at the stadium?" continued the young witch, casually casting a spell, which crashed at the feet of a gnome making him make an Olympic leap.

"How do you know I went to the stadium?"

He was pretty sure that Ron carefully avoided the topic of "favoring Draco Malfoy" and Hermione had disappeared the day before for one of her retreats at the library.

“It was on _Witchteen_ this morning. Nice scarf,” Ginny replied, shrugging slightly.

The scarf. The one Draco had given him. He hadn't given it back yet.

Harry groaned, trying to focus on something moving in the tall grass. More than an English garden, the Weasleys' garden resembled a jungle.

"So ... did you have fun?" the girl insinuated and Harry hated the tone of her voice.

"The Cannons lost," he muttered. He sighed loudly, before turning to her. He told her everything, about how they had argued the previous morning, about how Draco had shown himself to be affable and kind - certainly for the benefit of the photographers and that psychopath of his ex-boyfriend - and how he had found him with a bloody nose.

"So I brought him home. I wanted to stay for the night…you know just to be safe ... but he told me he can handle it all by himself and he kicked me out” he continued, gesturing with one hand.

Ginny was nodding, her lips reduced to a thin line, her cheeks red from the cold wind.

"Eventually I went back to the stadium to see if I could intercept Roger, but the bastard was gone"

Ginny nodded affirmatively, swinging her legs limply. "Did he tell you the surname?"

"Whose?"

“Do you remember what his surname is? Maybe we can find out where he lives, go there and put a lot of fear on him so that he leaves Draco alone. "

A moment. Why was Ginny now speaking in the plural?

"No, but I can find out," he said, as he climbed down from the fence and cast a spell on a gnome.

"Apart from Roger Davis, who has been in China for almost two years, only one other Roger comes to mind ... Roger Green, but it can't be him"

Harry wiped his hands on his jeans, starting to follow her to the Burrow. "Why not?"

Ginny shrugged. “Well the Roger I remember would never do such a thing. He looks a lot like Neville ... "

Harry thought about it, there was something deeply wrong with this whole story. He just couldn't figure out what.

"He's probably another Roger," Ginny finally admitted, starting to run for the door. "Come on, snail!"

*

Worried?

No, he wasn't worried, he was only slightly restless. Since he had brought Draco home after the assault of his ex-boyfriend, he had received no sign of life from him.

No note in response to what he had sent him.

Harry glared at Malfoy Manor's door and then finally decided to knock.

He waited until he heard the sound of someone's footsteps approaching the other side of the door.

He could hear him breathe on the other side.

What the fuck was he playing at?

“Malfoy, it's me. Open it up. ”He growled barely avoiding blowing up the door with a spell just to speed things up. "What the fuck ..." he whispered as Draco's pale face filled his view.

He had wide eyes, unkempt hair.

"Harry" whispered the former Slytherin, throwing himself into his arms. He curled up against his chest, pushing his face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. He trembled like a leaf shaken by the autumn wind.

Harry swallowed a knot of disquiet and slowly wrapped his arms around him, as if he were afraid to break it.

"Hey," he said, handing him some encouraging little packets on his back, which prompted Draco to snuggle up against him. "What happened?" he muttered, holding it tight.

He didn't quite know where that protective instinct towards Malfoy came from ... maybe it was caused by the ex-Slytherin's irremediable inability to look after himself, by his innate predisposition to get into the worst situations, by his total lack of common sense … Maybe it came from all these things put together.

He placed his hands on his back, making his palms adhere to the fabric of the shirt and stroking it more firmly. Draco's trembling seemed to subside as his touches tightened. Harry's hands slowly ran down his spine and then two fingers positioned themselves under the former Slytherin's jaw to make him lift his head.

"Tell me what happened" he whispered.

Malfoy smelled absurdly good. And his expression was so scared. So… docile and in need of protection.

Harry leaned over to him, their noses brushing. Draco's sweet breath breaking on his upper lip.

He felt him tremble again, but he was pretty sure it wasn't fear.

"Harry" repeated the former Slytherin in a whisper, before joining their lips in a light kiss.

Harry felt a powerful shiver go through his back as he hugged Draco and kissed him deeper.

He thought he caught something he couldn't read in Malfoy's gaze when he pulled away a little, but every thought was erased by Draco's next words.

"He entered the house," he murmured, his fingers buried in Harry's arms as if he were afraid of being torn away from him.

Draco swayed, his face was deadly pale again and his eyes looked bewildered.

Harry felt anger boil, a volcano in full eruption filling his stomach with liquid fire. He would find Roger. He would find it and tear it to pieces.

"Get your things," he growled, lacing his fingers with Draco's.

The former Slytherin just shook his head as he followed Harry into the house. The table in the hall was overturned, the vase shattered on the floor. Harry quickly scanned his gaze around, recording torn paintings, crippled chairs, turned over drawers ... and the word WHORE headed over the fireplace in the living room.

"I don't want to leave," Draco replied. "It's my home ... I don't want to leave"

Harry exhaled loudly, swallowing a couple of insults. "Okay," he finally said. "I send an owl to Hermione and ask her to stay here with you ..."

Draco's eyes widened a bit, tightening his grip on his hand. "Where are you going?"

“To find Roger. You will give me his address and I will make him pass the desire ... "

"No," Draco snapped, his cheeks tinged with red. "No ..." he repeated more calmly. “Don't hurt him. He's just heartbroken ... not ... "

Harry pulled him towards him, his arm naturally adapting to Draco's waist. “It already hurt you once. I don't want that to happen again "

"I just want you to stay here ... tonight ..."

Harry swallowed hard, getting lost in Draco's deep gray irises. He squinted when the former Slytherin erased the distance that separated them and kissed him softly. “I just want you to be with me,” he sighed on his mouth.

Harry distinctly felt a shiver of excitement trickle down his lower abdomen, catching his breath in his throat. Harry was sure he wasn't gay. It was his hands that took involved initiatives, wandering on Draco's back. His lips brushing Draco's, Draco's jaw, every inch of skin on his neck ...

"Harry," Malfoy sighed, digging his fingers into his shoulders and causing him more chills.

Harry's hands dropped to the ex Slytherin's buttocks, they were warm ... incredibly inviting ... and he just wanted to touch him everywhere.

"I feel so safe with you," Draco whispered in his ear, pressing his palm against Harry's groin and causing him a low moan.

Harry's penis twitched strongly, sending him a wave of excitement that set his whole body on fire.

Okay, that was interesting. Very gay, but very interesting.

Somehow his fingers worked their way through Draco's clothes, freeing him of the shirt that slipped to the floor with a rustle.

Draco's skin was warm and pale.

Harry darted his tongue over his earlobe as the former Slytherin backed towards the stairs.

The thought that Narcissa could see them or see the trail of clothes they were spreading on the steps crossed his mind fleetingly, but then Draco unzipped his jeans and reached into his boxers, annihilating any coherent thoughts.

"We should first ..." he snapped between kisses, as he pushed Malfoy against the door of his room and pressed against him.

Draco's penis was unmistakably hard. It was exciting to feel it through the fabric of his pants.

"There's nobody home," Draco murmured, pulling off his sweater and then licking his jaw.

Harry stumbled slightly as Draco hooked his fingers to the loops of his jeans and pulled him towards him.

His room was lit by some candles.

Harry kicked off his shoes, then fell onto the bed. It was incredibly comfortable and wide… and then Draco was on top of it. Draco's mouth on his.

Hands touched, caressed… sneaked everywhere.

"Let's take these off too," the former Slytherin said with a feral grin on his lips as he tore off his jeans and boxers, stripping him off completely.

Harry stifled the urge to cover himself being caressed by Draco's intense gaze.

He placed his hands on his hips, but the former Slytherin's fingers suddenly tightened on his wrists, making them move onto the pillow next to his head.

"No ..." Draco whispered, slowly licking his lips "You're mine, Potter"

Harry let out a groan, his penis reacting enthusiastically to Malfoy's movements and words.

Wait a minute ... where was the guy who was trembling with fear?

Who looked at him with wide eyes and pressed against him seeking protection from his ugly and bad ex-boyfriend...

Something was wrong. Very wrong. If only Malfoy had stopped kissing and caressing him for five seconds, maybe he would be able to ...

Harry's back suddenly arched as Draco leaned over him and took him in his mouth.

"Fuck" Harry sobbed, stretching his arms back and lacing his fingers to the keyboard of the bed.

He opened his lips in search of air, while Draco began to suck him as if he wanted to suck his soul away too.

His tongue could do magic on his skin.

"Yes ..." Harry sighed, dipping his fingers into the former Slytherin's blond hair and squeezing some locks.

He moaned his name softly as Draco lay back on him. The bare skin against him.

Harry pulled him close for a swift kiss before switching positions.

Draco arched his lips in a hot smile and lifted his hips so that he could take off his trousers. Harry felt a new wave of excitement flood him as he realized that the former Slytherin was not wearing boxers.

_Obscenely naked._

"Harry," Draco whispered as if he were purring.

Harry touched his mouth with his neck, his hands wandering along his chest.

It was very different than touching Ginny. There were no soft depressions ... sweet and fruity aromas ...

Draco's skin was silky and smooth, but underneath he could feel the solidity of his muscles.

Its scent was intense, musky… something reminiscent of the wind beating the hills around Hogwarts.

"I don't know what ..." he murmured, not daring to look at him.

If he had laughed, he would have died of shame.

But Draco didn't laugh, he just plunged his long fingers into his hair and kissed him deeply.

"The drawer ... of the nightstand ..." he murmured between kisses.

Harry reached out and opened the drawer. He moved a couple of things, until he intercepted a tube.

 _Oh,_ confusedly formulated his mind as Draco's legs opened to make space for him.

He wasn't flustered, he'd already had sex… in the past… a long time ago… with Ginny. Which was very different from Malfoy. "I'll do it ..." Draco said, taking the tube from his hands and opening it.

Harry let out a small hiccup as Malfoy flipped positions again and sat on him, stifling his complaints with another long kiss.

With all those kisses, Harry was getting very confused.

He was still straight ... maybe ... and they had to look after Roger, make sure he couldn't go into the house ...

He wasn't even sure they'd closed the front door, damn it!

But Draco kept kissing and touching him and he didn't understand anything anymore.

"You have to prepare me," whispered the former Slytherin, moistening his fingers with the lubricant.

 _Oh,_ repeated Harry's mind as he meekly slipped a finger between Draco's buttocks.

Lubricant. Sex.

They could think of Roger later.

He had outlived Voldemort, he could safely have sex without worrying about a psychopathic Hufflepuff breaking into the room.

He reverently watched Draco move over him. A tender moan fluttered out of his parted lips as he writhed following the touches of his fingers.

"Harry" groaned the former Slytherin, pinning him with a look full of need.

Harry sat up, putting his arm around Draco's waist as Malfoy settled on him. It was bloody hot. And tight, a wet paradise that welcomed him perfectly. There was nothing too soft or weak. He was all masculine, strong… his solid and incredibly inviting body. Harry tilted his head back, waves of arousal burning his lower abdomen as Draco began to move on him.

Their lips touched each other with each thrust, their interspersed breaths echoed between the walls of the room ... the sweat dripped in hot and tortuous streams on their bodies.

Harry pulled him closer, biting his lower lip. His hands continued to devour Draco's skin in demanding caresses.

"Fuck…" he whispered, tightening his grip on the sheets as Draco's movements became more urgent.

"You're almost there?" sighed the former Slytherin on his lips.

"Yeah…" Harry replied in a sigh, closing his fist on his erection. Draco groaned his name. Again and again. Clinging to his shoulders and sinking his fingers into his skin so hard that it left marks.

Harry had time to kiss him one last time before orgasm stole his breath, leaving him drenched in sweat.

He lay back on the sheets, his heartbeat thundering loudly in his temples.

Harry couldn't even find the strength to lift his eyelids when Draco crouched beside him.

He let out a faint grunt, hearing the former Slytherin force him to move his arm so he could settle more comfortably against him.

"Do you stay here?" he asked in a whisper.

Harry stroked his shoulder with his fingers, inhaling his scent. It was becoming familiar to him now.

"Yes," he whispered without opening his eyes. "I stay here" 

*

The first thing that struck him as soon as he woke up was the knowledge that he was not in his room in Grimmauld Place.

The second was a naked body, asleep and close to his. An unmistakably masculine body.

He grimaced, watching Draco's blond hair spread across his chest.

Memories of the previous night came back to his messed up mind like an avalanche.

He had fucked Draco Malfoy. Twice.

He was straight. And he had fucked Draco Malfoy.

 _Twice!_ his brain screamed hysterically as he gathered enough dignity to push Malfoy away and sit up.

He reached out and covered Draco with the sheets, watching him turn sideways and continue to sleep undisturbed. His stomach contracted pleasantly at the sight of his bare shoulder.

 _Maybe I'm not that straight_ , he told himself.

He still couldn't figure out if he was sorry about it or not.

He silently dressed and then retrieved a paper and a quill from his desk. 

_I'm going to talk to Roger._

_Do not worry. I will be back soon._

_Harry_

He placed the paper on his pillow and then left the room. 

*

Roger Green lived in a north London neighborhood with his family. After about half an hour of stalking he saw the former Hufflepuff leave the house and start walking fast on the sidewalk.

Harry felt the adrenaline invade his veins, the thrill of the chase making his hair stand on end.He licked his lips, sinking his hand into the pocket of his jacket and tightening his fingers around the wand.

"Honey"

Harry froze as a short-haired girl ran across the street and threw her arms around Roger's neck. The guy responded enthusiastically to her hug, then kissed her deeply.

They talked quietly, before they resumed walking, Harry continued to follow them at a safe distance. After a few minutes, they stopped in front of a shop.The girl kissed Roger again before entering the store, leaving him waiting for her on the sidewalk.

Harry decided it was time to finally face Roger.

"Potter ..." exhaled the former Hufflepuff, as if he were facing death himself. The tongue darted between dry, cracked lips to moisten them. "He told me ... that ..."

Harry frowned. "Malfoy?" he hissed as he blotted out the distance that separated him from Roger and grabbed his jacket. He let out a moan like a kitten's meow.

“He's blackmailing me! Please don't hurt me! I did nothing!" he cried, trembling violently. Harry gave him a shake, causing him to whimper.

"Is Malfoy blackmailing you?" he growled, feeling anger ignite his stomach.

"He made me pretend to be his jealous ex boyfriend," he replied, forgetting to breathe. “I didn't want to do it. Really. But Malfoy has certain… things… about me. He uses them to blackmail me. I never touched him ... I swear ... he did it all by himself, using spells of illusion. "

"What does it have on you?" Harry asked suddenly. Roger blushed up to the hairline, hunching his shoulders a bit as if hoping to disappear.

"I…" he sneaked, trying to decide whether to trust Harry or not.

Harry licked his lips. "I can make Malfoy never blackmail you again ..." he assured him.

“I participated in a beauty contest. I've become ... Mister Little Mermaid. Yes, I know… it's humiliating, but I needed the money for Christmas. But my girlfriend would leave me if she found out ... "

Harry nodded. “Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I'll retrieve the photos "he said, reaching towards him a little" but in return I want a small favor "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading the story so far. I hope you enjoyed this chapter :-)


	4. CHAPTER 4

Harry found Draco standing in the hall of Malfoy Manor. Hands on hips, wand in hand, aristocratic frown on his face, he was directing two miserable house elves hanging a Christmas festoon.

"Down," the former Slytherin ordered. The house elf imperceptibly moved the green festoon downwards. "Too much! Don't you even know how to hang a damn decoration? " Draco yelled, pointing his wand at the house elf and casting a spell to make him fall off the ladder.

Harry just raised an eyebrow as the little creature scrambled to his feet and went back to work.

"Hello," he murmured softly, shoulders hunched forward. A shadow of undone beard to obscure his cheeks.

Draco turned to him, but the welcoming smile froze on his lips as he noticed his expression. He erased the distance that separated them and placed his hands on Draco's arms. "Are you OK?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Harry gave a short affirmative nod. "We need to talk"

Draco nodded, clapping his hands to summon the house elves. "You go away," he growled in their direction, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders and leading him into the living room.

"What happened?" the former Slytherin asked, closing the double doors. Harry could almost feel his heart beating wildly. He ran a hand through his hair, which was slightly damp from the snow, as he approached the fireplace. He let the silence fall between them so that Draco had plenty of time to think about the worst things.

"Did you ..." he hesitated "did you see Roger?" the former Slytherin asked him, his voice vibrating with nervousness.

Harry nodded, lowering his lids and exhaling deeply. When he opened his eyes, he gave Malfoy a look capable of incinerating a Basilisk.

"It won't give you any trouble," he declared, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Really?" Draco replied, just pretending to be relieved. "Did you talk to him?"

Harry nodded, taking a few steps towards Draco. "I did something more," he said in a low, modulated voice. He saw suspicion curl across Draco's face and his hands shake slightly. "I killed him"

Draco's eyes widened and he was forced to lean back in his chair so as not to collapse to the floor. His face was completely devoid of color.

"You ... what did you do?" he whispered as Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly against him.

"You are mine" he pronounced, making him lift his face slightly and pinning it with his eyes. “Green decreed his death when he touched you. I will not allow anyone ... "

Harry's fingers ran down Draco's jaw in a sweet and creepy caress "... to touch you" luin sighed before bending down to kiss him.

Draco stood still, his lips frighteningly cold beneath Harry's. "Don't ..." he murmured, watching him in fear. "You're not serious, are you?"

Harry took his chin between his fingers, pressing enough to hurt him a little. "Do you think I'm not capable of it?" he said with his voice rising progressively. "Do you think I would not do everything to protect you?" he cried, making the magic crackle all around them. The window panes suddenly vibrated, threatening to shatter and the flames of the fireplace flared up. Draco let out a small squeak. It looked like a caged animal, defenseless.

Harry stepped back, taking off his coat and scarf and going to sit in the chair. He tilted his head back a little, fixing every detail of Draco's face in his mind.

It was satisfying and incredibly exciting to see him standing there, half dead with fear.

"Come here," he ordered. Draco jumped slightly, his cheeks acquiring a little color as he obeyed the command.

"On your knees," Harry murmured, settling himself better against the pillow.

Draco did as he was told, a veil of fear hovering over his face, but there was also something else ... something that sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

"Undo my pants and suck it"

Harry licked his lips, preventing himself from smiling as Malfoy's fingers quickly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his boxers down. It was too easy ... really ...

A moan formed at the bottom of his throat as Draco stroked the tip of his erection with his lips. He was incredibly talented.

He buried his fingers in his hair and let himself be carried away by his movements. 

*

"Why are you in such a good mood?" Ginny asked, tilting her head a little.

Ron yelped, burying himself in a sports newspaper as Hermione magically emerged from behind the pages of a dusty old volume.

"He didn't come home tonight," she reported with a sly grin, which was immediately reflected on Ginny's lips.

"Mind your own business," Harry muttered, unable to wipe the smug expression off his face.

"Where have you been? Even if ... "the girl said, taking another star-shaped cookie from the plate" I think there is no doubt "

"I've been to Malfoy's," Harry replied, ignoring Ron's moan.

"Uh uh uh ... so things are getting serious?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged, biting into a cookie.

"Maybe. Well I like him. "

"Have you gone stupid?" Ron snapped, lowering the magazine. His ears and cheeks were a triumph of red. “Since when do you like Malfoy? Harry ... I understand this whole thing about being gay ... really ... but since when did you ... "

"Since I found out that he gives amazing blowjobs"

Ron made a disgusted grimace and for a moment he looked like he was going to cry. Harry smiled, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. He should have censored certain thoughts. At least in front of Ron.

"Besides, I enjoy having a little slave," he confessed.

"A slave?" Hermione asked, arching her brows. "You mean you can get him to do whatever you want?"

"Exactly," Harry replied, stretching out on the sofa and devouring the last piece of cookie. Eventually he had made him believe that he murdered Roger Green and threw his body into the lake at Hogwarts. He continued to play the part of the psycho boyfriend, until Draco, trembling with fear, said he had to go get breakfast cereal and literally ran away from Malfoy Manor. Obviously after two great blowjobs.

Harry had gone upstairs and inspected Draco's room until he could locate Roger's compromising photos. He had thrown them into the fireplace and then lay down completely naked, waiting for Malfoy to return.

He hadn't needed to follow him to find out that he had gone to Green's house to check that he wasn't really there. Roger had a couple of friends out of town and had agreed to disappear for a while ... long enough for Malfoy to die of fear and guilt.

Harry smiled, grabbing another cookie. He had to admit that he was starting to like that situation. 

*

"Harry?"

Harry woke from the numbness in which he was immersed. The living room sofa at Malfoy Manor was comfortable. Especially if he had spent the last two hours of his life having sex with Draco in every dirty position his mind suggested.

"Mh?" he replied, lazily watching the former Slytherin sitting at the table cluttered with books and scrolls. The exam to enter the Academy to become an Auror was very hard, Draco had to study to prepare all the summaries of potions, spells and history of magic.

"I'm tired," Malfoy piped, putting his lower lip into a small pout. Harry craned his neck a little to check where he was. He still lacked the whole part on poisons and antidotes.

"Study one more chapter," he told him, lying back on the pillows.

"No!" he retorted vehemently "I'm studying for you; I polished your broomstick ..."

Harry pursed his lips in a perverse smile, stretching his arms back.

"You particularly liked that ..." he commented.

Draco's cheeks turned a violent red and his lips twisted into an outraged expression. "That's not the point," he replied, unable to deny. "The point is ..."

"The point is ..?" Harry asked pinning him with his eyes.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and Harry was sure he was about to put a curse on him, but the rush of anger subsided into a more submissive expression.

"Wouldn't you rather snuggle me?" Draco replied, dropping his quill on the table and standing up.

Harry laughed as Draco pulled back the blanket and lay down on him. His hair smelled good. Harry wrapped his arms around him, placing a light kiss on his forehead. After all, it wasn't too bad ... he might even get used to dealing with this fearful and incredibly docile Malfoy.

"We can sit here and make out ..." Draco said, nibbling lightly on his jaw. Harry would be purring. He lifted his chin a little in order to facilitate the cuddle-a-Potter operation and slid his fingers down Draco's back. He was too dressed. Definitely too much… too much dressed.

“Or we could go shopping. I still have a long list of Christmas gifts to buy ... "

Harry let out a snort of laughter. "And I could get you significant discounts"

Draco nodded enthusiastically. "Or you could bring me the bags," he offered conciliatory.

Harry pretended to think about it. "Nah ... I prefer to watch you while you prepare all the summaries and screens to pass the exam from ..."

A flash of anger passed through Malfoy's irises again, before being erased by a light kiss. His hands slipped invitingly along Harry's chest, then lingering on his hips.

"Isn't there really something else you would rather do?" he whispered on her mouth, before engaging him in a long kiss.

And yes, Harry had half an idea of what he would rather do… 

*

Kreacher placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him as soon as he sat down at the table. Harry thanked him with a nod, then poured himself a glass of orange juice and unfolded the newspaper. He and Draco had slowly disappeared from the gossip page replaced by Oliver Wood and his new flame, a Czechoslovakian model with mileage legs.

"You're in a good mood," Hermione noted, emerging from her books.

"Did you go to Malfoy's last night?"

"Yup"

"Harry ..."

There it is, the tone of _why do you worry me?_

"We have fun," he interrupted.

"Yes but…"

"Don't start acting like Ron"

Hermione reduced her lips to a thin line, closing the book with a dull thud.

"I'm just ..."

“Worried about me. I know. It's not a good idea to hang out with Malfoy, but I can handle him."

Hermione tilted her head a little, exhaling loudly.

"Really. There's nothing to worry about, "Harry declared as Kreacher opened the window and an owl landed on the table. Harry untied the note, recognizing Draco's handwriting. 

_Dear Harry,_

_I think this is the hardest letter I've ever written._

_These days with you have been wonderful, I loved every moment spent together, but the sense of guilt is haunting me._

_I decided to take the blame for his death._

_Thanks for everything you have done for me._

_You are the best boyfriend in the world, but I hope you understand why I have to do this._

_Love_

_Draco_

"Fuck," Harry whispered, scrambling to his feet so hard that his chair fell to the floor.

That moron! He had to stop it before ...

Harry froze, looking at Hermione's startled face.

Draco Malfoy… he was talking about Draco Malfoy.

The same Draco Malfoy who had set up all that little joke just to make fun of him!

He handed the letter to Hermione and waited for the girl to finish reading it before asking her what she thought.

"He knows," replied the young witch, taking a small sip of tea.

"What does he know?" he asked, sitting down again.

“He knows Roger's death is a bluff. He's waiting for you to run to the Ministry to stop him. "

Harry crossed his arms across his chest. Yes, it was plausible that Draco had discovered everything.

"What can I do?"

Hermione shrugged, shifting a couple of volumes to the side. "You could go to his house and tell him the truth"

"What do you mean?"

"That Roger told you he was blackmailing him and forced him to pretend to be your boyfriend to get your attention"

Harry stared at her for a few moments without fully realizing her words. "You mean to play one of his usual moron jokes on me .." he said calmly.

Hermione raised the cup to her lips. Harry could almost hear the cumbersome gears of her brain creak.

"What do you know that I don't know?"

"Nothing," she hastened to reply, trying to put on a mask of innocence and honesty.

"Hermione ..."

The young witch got up and tried to run out of the kitchen with a very trivial excuse, but Harry intercepted her in the doorway. He stretched out his arms, anchoring himself to the door jamb to keep her from passing.

"What do you know that ..."

"He likes you!" snapped the girl, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “Malfoy… Malfoy likes you. For a long time! "

"And how the hell ..."

"It was obvious to everyone, Harry"

“It wasn't obvious at all! For sure not to me! It is absurd!" he said aloud. "Me and Malfoy ..."

"If you spend a lot of time together and when you're not together you write notes ... and have sex ... then ..." she pointed out with enviable serenity.

Despite everything he had been… well… nice… being with him, caressing him, kissing him… he was almost addicted to his annoying presence.

"Maybe I like him ... a little," he murmured at the end.

Hermione looked at him, the writing I already knew was reflected in her irises.

"It is appropriate that you tell him"

"But…"

The girl shook her head, her curls moved like a stormy sea. "Either you want to be with him or you don't want to be"  
  
*

Preparations for Christmas at Malfoy Manor had finally been completed. A house elf had been buried by a mountain of red banners - which had been carefully made to disappear - an indecent sum had been spent on candy canes.

"You should be at the Ministry," he said, catching sight of Draco immersed in one of the lounge chairs. He was reading a book and was wearing a green silk robe.

"You too ... you should be there to save me"

Harry let out a snort of laughter and sat down on the sofa opposite Malfoy. He took off his scarf, absently recording that all the Christmas decorations were strictly green and silver.

"I didn't kill Roger," he confessed, looking back at the former Slytherin.

“Yes, Pansy told me she saw him at a party. He was happily groping his girlfriend "

Harry nodded as Draco leaned towards him, looking at him with hatred.

“You made me think you threw it into the lake at Hogwarts. I did ... things ... because I was afraid that you would kill me too "

Harry just arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to start with the recriminations? Because you know you can't win ... "

"Really?"

"You blackmailed Roger Green, you made the whole of England believe that I was gay ... you told Ryta Skeeter that I have an obscenely big penis ..."

"Yeah ... pure fantasy ..." Draco hissed sourly.

"I know you couldn't tell me that you like me ... I would never have considered you"

"Yeah, well ... if you came here to tell me you're not gay and you didn't like what ..." Draco interrupted defensively.

"I liked it," Harry muttered, licking his lips.

"Maybe I'm as crazy as you are ... but I liked it"

Draco swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He didn't expect that kind of response. And he certainly didn't know how to treat a very honest Harry Potter.

"So ..." he said, clearing his throat "what do you want ..."

"I want you to get up," Harry replied, opening his legs a little. "You unfasten the belt of your robe and let it fall to the floor. And then I want you to kneel between my legs, unbutton my jeans and take my dick in your mouth "

Draco scrambled to his feet, his legs and fingers trembling slightly as he took off his robe. He was wearing only the green silk pajama pants.

Harry felt his throat go dry, his gaze plunging into the vision of the boy's pale chest. The narrow hips ... the well-defined abdomen ... there was not a single portion of skin that he hadn't covered with his tongue.

"Come here," he murmured, leaning more comfortably on the pillows. Draco erased the distance that separated them, bending over to his knees in front of him.

Harry brushed his cheek and jaw with his fingers in a light caress. "No more blackmail"

Draco gave a small affirmative nod.

"No more intrigues"

Another affirmative nod.

"No more lies," he whispered as Draco unbuttoned his jeans and stroked his erection from above the fabric of his boxers.

"Promise," he murmured, before bending over him. 

*

Harry felt stupidly happy. The aching body, the sheets that smelled of sex. He stretched lazily on the mattress, reaching out his arms to fill the entire bed. Draco must have already gotten up.

He smiled as the former Slytherin appeared in the doorway with a tray in his hands.

"I thought you must be hungry," he said, reaching for the bed and sitting on the edge

"Thanks," Harry replied, settling himself against the pillows and leaning over to kiss him lightly.

"I'm going to take a shower," he announced.

Harry watched him go. He really felt like a moron, but he couldn't really stop smiling. He and Draco had fucked… again and again… and again… and then they talked… about the war, their families, Quidditch… everything that came to mind.

And it had been wonderful. Harry felt happy. For the first time there was nothing that ... 

_Could Harry Potter soon become Harry Malfoy?_

Harry felt his stomach freeze as he opened the copy of the Daily Prophet.

_There seems to be no end to this romantic love story._

_A source very close to the couple announces that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter could soon get married._

_“Harry is very much in love and would do anything for Draco. He says his life was not complete without him and he would also be willing to marry him, adopting his surname to keep…._

Harry crumpled the newspaper angrily.

How could he have been so stupid?

No articles in the newspapers! No articles in the newspapers!

It was the first clause of their relationship!

"Malfoy!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... we've come to the end of this story. I hope it has entertained you :-) Thanks to all those who have read, followed, commented on it ... :-)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fanfic a few years ago and recently decided to translate it into English. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and that made you laugh :-)


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